Mad Love
by Emily-Of-Midgard
Summary: Human!AU. Ludwig, after years of planning and saving, he's earned enough money to buy a bar. What he wasn't planning on saving was the life of Gilbert, who just happens to have pissed off the head of the local crime racket. Ludwig is forced to flee from the assassin that has been sent after Gilbert but everything changes when they realize that the assassin is in love with him.
1. August 9th

Title: Mad Love

Summary: Human!AU. Ludwig is a amnesiac who after years of planning and saving, he's earned enough money to buy himself a bar. What he wasn't planning on saving was the life of Gilbert, an oddball who just happens to have pissed off the head of the local organized crime racket. Ludwig is forced to flee from the assassin that has been sent after Gilbert but everything changes when they realize that the assassin is in love with Ludwig. Oh boy.

Parings: GerIta to start.

Author's Note: I've been entering Camp NaLeWriMo sessions for the past three months and after all of that…I've become burned out on writing original stuff so hey, why not go back to writing fan fiction.

While my other stuff has a…less than regular updating schedule, this will at least always be updated every month.

This is inspired by the Batman comic I'm currently reading, 'The Long Halloween' (Batman fans might recognize the title name too. :D). If you like comics, check it out. It's really good.

The ending is rushed but please tell me what you think of it and whatnot. Done rambling. Read on, please and thank you. Reviews would be loved.

* * *

Ludwig took a long swig of his beer. He closed his eyes tightly, mentally naming all the different flavors he could taste. It really took a long time to learn exactly how to drink. Drinking to just get drunk wasn't really drinking. You had to learn how to savor the beer.

He put the tankard down and glanced at the formerly spotless floor. Nope, the guy who had all but been shot to hell was still lying around, bleeding on his nice clean floor.

He tipped the glass back again. Perhaps there was some logic in just getting drunk.

The man groaned and tried to pull himself to his feet but all he managed to do was pull a chair down on himself. "Shit!" He gasped and tried to push it off him. "A little help?"

"Haven't I helped you enough?" He said, walking out from behind the bar and over to the albino man. "I saved your life. Isn't that enough?" Despite his comments, Ludwig pulled the chair off the man. He winced despite himself as he looked at his wounds. This guy really was lucky he hadn't died. He had been shot once in the arm and at least two had grazed his leg. The man seemed to be made of sterner stuff than Ludwig had taken him for because he was still conscious. Yelling his head off and cursing up a storm but he was still awake. Ludwig was no doctor but he was certain that was good.

The man pulled his hand away from his arm and Ludwig could see fresh, red blood shining on his hand. Ludwig cursed and ran into the small kitchen. All his staff had left for the day so nobody questioned him when he ran in covered in dust and blood, grabbed the paper towels and first aid kit then ran back out. He sank down onto his knees and yanked open the kit.

"This is going to burn." He said mildly as he splashed alcohol on his arm.

The man yelled something Ludwig thought was Hungarian and knew wasn't meant for polite company. He tried to push Ludwig away but the bar owner simply held his good arm tighter and continued to apply first aid.

"You're lucky," Ludwig said. "You've only been nicked here. I'm not sure about your legs though."

"Don't worry," The man said, his first actual sentence that wasn't in another language and/or obscene. "I have leg armor on. It looks worse than it actually is."

"So, were you expecting to be gunned down in the middle of the street by gang thugs?" He asked.

Ludwig had been driving up Main Street when it happened. He hadn't even noticed the man crossing the street in front of him but that all changed when he hurtled into his windshield, blood spewing from his arm. Ludwig ducked down with reflexes he didn't know he had but he managed to catch a glimpse of three thugs piling into a car Ludwig couldn't afford if he worked for fifty years.

"Maybe." The man said cryptically.

"Well I wasn't. All I wanted to do was deposit today's earnings in the bank. Instead I had to peel you off my windshield and play hero."

"Um, I don't mean to look a gift medic in the mouth but you weren't much of a hero. You drove to the bank after you got me in the car and still deposited the money."

"There was quite a bit today!" Ludwig cried defensively, though he wasn't really sure why. "I need to pay for things!"

"Oh you'll pay all right," The man said ominously. "You have no idea what you've done."

"What have I done then? I've saved a life," He said, throwing him a pile of bandages. "You can wrap those yourself."

"And you've ended yours. Do you know who I am?"

"No and I don't care."

"My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt!" He cried and struck a pose. He was clearly looking for some sort of recognition. Ludwig sniffed.

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"Haven't you heard of me?" He responded. Gilbert almost seemed offended.

Ludwig thought for a moment. A dim memory came to him. "No wait, I have," Gilbert grinned. "You're a police officer. I saw you on the news. You were involved in that police chase across the city."

Gilbert's grin grew wider. "Sure was!"

"I really don't see what pride you can take in being the first police officer to be both the chaser and chased when it comes to car chases."

"Well nobody's done that before and you remembered me for it. I really should have been a movie star. Didn't want to play evil characters all the time, see?"

Ludwig stared at him.

"You know, albino. Evil?"

"I don't watch movies a lot and I don't see what this have to do with anything."

"It doesn't. Just noting for future reference."

"Are you going to tell me anything or you just going to sit there for being stupid. I have no doubt you can do that elsewhere."

"I shouldn't go out now," Gilbert said, his tone immediately changing from cocky and self assured to thoughtful and concerned. "_He'll _be looking for me."

"Who's looking for you?" Ludwig asked.

"Dude," Gilbert responded. "I'm a cop. Specifically, an undercover cop who specializes in working with mob members. Somebody wants me dead. I'm sure you can guess who's looking for me."

Ludwig stared at Gilbert for a few silent seconds. He leaned closer and he didn't seem to notice he was whispering. "You don't mean…"

Gilbert nodded and Ludwig knew he was a dead man. "The Roman."

Nobody knew very much about the Roman. He just came to the city one day and blew away everyone in his path. Almost overnight, he became the head of the organized crime racket and he and his grandson were the terrors of the area Ludwig lived and beyond.

"How on earth did you manage to piss off the Roman?" He asked, sitting down heavily in a chair. Gilbert pulled himself into one.

"For starters, I'm an undercover cop. He hates traitors and he hates cops. I betrayed him and I'm a cop," He shrugged. "Two for one. Secondly, I found out something I shouldn't."

Ludwig was about to respond but he fell silence when he saw a shadow pass by the bar's front window. Gilbert let out a pained gasp as he struggled to his feet and pulled out a revolver. There was absolute silence.

Then, the window broke in a shower of glass and fire. Ludwig yelled and jumped behind the overturned table, pulling a firing Gilbert. "Don't waste your bullets, you idiot!"

Gilbert was about to answer but he was cut off by another explosion. Ludwig popped his head over the table and almost cried out. "My…my…"

"Leave the bar, take the revolver!" Gilbert yelled, grabbing Ludwig by the arm and pulling him to the kitchen.

* * *

In short, the bar almost burned to the ground. It was barely held together by the time the fire department showed up. Ludwig tried to show no emotion when he saw all that was left. He did take great pleasure in showing Gilbert EXACTLY what he thought of him when Gilbert tried to cheer him up.

"Dude what the hell!?" Gilbert cried, holding onto his now broken nose with a bandaged hand. Ludwig shrugged and tried to push his anger down. It was something he had great practice at dealing with.

"Look I understand you're mad, but you'll be able to work through it in the next few months?"

"Yes. I'll be suing you for everything you're worth." Ludwig said darkly.

"That's really harsh man. You wouldn't want to do that to the guy you're fleeing with, would ya?"

Ludwig almost laughed. Almost. "What makes you think I'm going to go anywhere with you?"

"Because they think you're working with me."

"I don't KNOW you!" Ludwig yelled.

"Look, this really isn't the way to explain this," Gilbert said, having the sense to look chastised. "But because you helped me, just the once, they think you're with me now. If you go now you're dead. At least with me we both stand a chance. Go away and we'll both be dead in two minutes."

"I don't trust you. I don't know you. I'm going." Ludwig yelled again. He walked away with as much dignity as he could muster, ignoring Gilbert's yells even though the man was chasing after him. In fact, Ludwig didn't even acknowledge him at all until he saw his car.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Gilbert limped up beside him.

"And another thing-," Gilbert went silent when he saw his car. "…Aw shit man, that's not good." Ludwig nodded.

Next to his car lay a body. A thug. And on his car was a childish painted heart, like one that belonged on a Valentine. In blood.

He turned to Gilbert. "…You may have a point."


	2. Labor Day

They called him the Roman.

He paced back and forth in his opulent study, occasionally taking a puff from the cigarette he clutched in his fist. He always kept his office dark but there was enough light coming in from the moon and the streetlights that he could see his clock. It read ten thirty.

He was late.

The Roman sighed and lit another cigarette. If Lovino was anyone other than his daughter's son, he would have gotten rid of him long ago. Regardless, he was his grandson and when he actually put his mind to it, he could accomplish things.

It was nearly eleven when his butler poked his head in. "Sir, Mr. Vargas is here."

"Hmm? Oh yes, send him in," The butler vanished and the Roman's genial grin twisted into an angered frown. "The lazy bastard should have been here long ago."

If Lovino had sensed his grandfather's anger, he didn't show it. The young man walked into the room with ease, his manner calm and collected. He clearly didn't care that the Roman had gone to some lengths to arrange this meeting. And that the reason they were meeting was all Lovino's fault to begin with.

"Lovino." He said after a few silent moments.

"Grandfather." He said, his tone, as usual, quiet and void of emotion.

The Roman studied him for a few moments, shrugged, and sat down. "You have nerve, Lovi, I have to give you that. Not many people would have the balls to act that way when they've made a mistake."

"With all due respect, Grandfather," Lovino responded. "It wasn't my fault he escaped. It was the fault of the men I put in charge-."

"See," The Roman interrupted, placing one finger up in the air as if to make a point. "There's the thing: you put them in charge. Ultimately, because you made a bad choice, they were set up to fail and your brother managed to escape." Throughout his lecture, he never raised his voice. The Roman had a reputation and people with a reputation didn't need to scream and shout. Their actions spoke louder than their words.

If you didn't know Lovino well, you would think he was just as cool and collected as he was a few minutes before. However, the Roman did know Lovino well and he noticed the sweat beading on his forehead and the way his hands clenched and unclenched. Had the Roman been less than he was, he would have relished in scaring the boy.

He instead sighed and got up. He clapped a hand on Lovino's shoulder and felt the man flinch. "I don't know what to do with you, Lovi," He said kindly, using the hit man's childhood nickname. "Ever since that incident in Madrid, you haven't been yourself. You've been sloppy."

"I know, Grandfather."

There was a moment of silence as the Roman debated Lovino's fate. Finally, he spoke again.

"I know it's been hard for you since Antonio."

"With all due respect Grandfather," Lovino said suddenly. "I'd rather not talk about Madrid or Antonio. I just want to figure out how to fix this problem."

"That's my boy." And just like that, the riff between grandson and grandfather was healed. The Roman breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't wanted to kill his grandson.

"I think we need to move quickly." Lovino said, taking the seat he had been offered.

"I agree. I've known many people who have gone wrong in our business. Many an asylum has been filled with the men who went to be hit men but just went insane but…" The Roman said.

"But?" Lovino said. The Roman leaned closer.

"Your brother is a special case. Something went _very _wrong with Feliciano."

Lovino leaned back in his chair, a hand over his face. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "He was under full supervision. He was under the best men I had," He removed his hand from his eyes. "I assume you saw what he did to them."

"Oh yes. Several people have. Two of the toughest men I know lost their lunches over it. Your mother would be proud, " A ghost of a smile flickered over the Roman's face. "And yet, they lived."

"He made them wish they had died. It was August, Grandfather. He's always hated August so he had to let them live."

"A man who's so insane he only kills on a holiday," The Roman said. "That's what I've created."

"That's why we must move quickly. Giovanni and his group went after an undercover cop," He spat out the word 'cop'. "And they've seen what looks like his work. I think he was backed into a corner and had no choice. It wasn't a holiday."

"We've got to find him before he kills somebody that isn't connected to this," The Roman responded. "Get your boys out there, Lovi, and stop him." That was both an order and a dismissal. He turned around in his chair and walked over to the window. He opened it, allowing the cold air to billow into the room.

"Yes Grandfather." Lovino said as he left the room. The Roman lit another cigarette and watched the smoke float into the star splattered sky.

* * *

"See! I TOLD you it's easy to get blood off of a car!" Gilbert chirped cheerily, his voice muffled by the car. Ludwig simply scowled and scrubbed at his windshield. The heart hadn't disappeared completely but instead of the blood red it had once been, it was now a light pink as well as breaking up.

"This concerns me that you know this."

"Hey, I'm a cop. This is standard knowledge," Gilbert responded. "Besides, where we're going, you don't want that on your car."

"Will they not like the blood on my car?"

"Nah man, everyone has blood on their car where I'm from. I just can't be seen with a guy who's little European number has a _heart _made out of blood on it. Completely unmanly."

"Because I want to impress thugs." Ludwig said as he threw the sponge down. He had finally gotten everything off, no thanks to Gilbert.

"If you want to make it through there, yes. We have to get through the city." Gilbert responded as Ludwig opened the car door.

"Get out. There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive."

"I call shotgun!" Gilbert chirped

"NO!" Ludwig cried, images of Gilbert resting his shoes on the dashboard and setting off the airbag floating through his head. "You will get in the back!"

"Come on, you wanna ruin my image?" Gilbert yelled.

"You're an undercover cop in a city that is all but swarming with Mafia. You really want to talk about image?"

"I'm not moving then." Gilbert said, crossing his arms childishly.

Ten minutes later, Ludwig found himself pulling onto the freeway while Gilbert tried to find a good way to sit that didn't cause him pain.

"I can't believe you did that with a _sponge_," Gilbert groaned. "Where the hell did you learn to do that."

"I can't tell you." Ludwig said.

"Well there's no need to be snotty about it." Gilbert huffed.

"No I mean, I literally can't tell you. I don't remember."

"What do you mean you can't remember?!" Gilbert cried. "Are you one of those weird ass amnesiacs?"

"Yes."

The word was said so matter of fact that Gilbert stopped rambling and stared at Ludwig.

"Like seriously?"

"Yes," Ludwig said, his tone a bit softer. "I have been for some time now. I was found wandering around when I was nine years old. I can remember nothing before that."

"Shit," Gilbert said, his tone apologetic. "I didn't know."

"It's not a problem." Ludwig said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. In the dim light from the streetlights, Gilbert could make out a large silver scar that ran across his head.

"Whoever did that meant business." Gilbert said, gesturing at the scar.

"Yes. I don't care though. I can't even remember it so it doesn't matter," Ludwig said. Something had changed in his tone. It had slipped from even to almost…rapid. It was almost if he needed to prove himself. "I have a good life now, or I did anyways. I worked my way out of the psyche ward and I have my own business."

"Whoa, whoa, I'm not saying you aren't. Calm down-Wait," Gilbert did a double take and seemed almost…thoughtful. "You were in a psyche ward?"

"Yes." Ludwig said and offered no further comment. He had spoken about it before to only a few people and every person had reacted the same way.

"…If you don't mind me asking, which one?"

"It was in the Medical district. Lilac and Ivy Psychiatric Hospital. Why do you ask?"

"DAMN IT THAT'S HOW HE KNOWS YOU!" Gilbert said, unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing himself forward.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Ludwig cried. The car was swerving through the traffic lanes. If it hadn't been so late and the roads so abandoned, there would have been a catastrophic crash.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" He yelled, going through his briefcase. He had made Ludwig go for it before they left. "Lilac and Ivy!"

"What's the big deal?" Ludwig asked. "It's one of the best in the country. It's for people who really need help. I couldn't remember anything so I went to the amnesiac ward."

"And I assume you know that there's a criminally insane ward as well as a private ward."

"Yes. The private ward is for the rich mostly. If somebody powerful has a relative who needs some help, they get sent there. The stories I could tell you about the movie stars I met."

"No dude, you aren't comprehending! Ah-HA!" Gilbert held a file up in the air victoriously. "Feliciano Vargas!"

"Who now?"

"I can't believe I didn't think of him before. The Holiday Hit man himself! I assume you've heard of him."

Ludwig thought for a moment. "Can't say I have," He finally said. "Though that name sounds intimidating."

"You don't know the half of it," Gilbert said, unnaturally sober. "He's the grandson of the Roman himself and the brother of his chief enforcer. The Vargas clan trained him to be a hit man just like his brother but something…broke inside him. He went mad. He went after a whole bunch of the Family, killing them all on a holiday. The police were closing in on him when he suddenly vanished. A few months later, he was spotted at Lilac and Ivy. He must have broken out.

"I don't remember him," Ludwig said. "But you think this guy is after us?"

"Yep. That was his calling card, plain and simple. I don't know why though. Why is he after you. He's not interested in average people…" Gilbert's voice trailed off and he was silent for a few minutes and then he spoke suddenly. "Shit."

"What?" Ludwig asked, confused.

Gilbert looked at him and he looked genuinely scared. "It's Labor Day."

* * *

Giovanni wasn't a very lucky man. Never had, and now, he never would be.

It was a real shame it had to end this way. He had always liked him but he needed a car and Giovanni needed to pay.

He sat on the hood of the car and lit a cigarette, wondering what _he_ was doing. He grins when he thinks of _him_. _He _was brilliant, and handsome, and hardworking. The perfect man.

Speaking of hardworking…

He looks up at the fireworks currently lighting up the sky. He turns to Giovanni's body and throws down a packet of fireworks. Today was many things. It was the last true day of summer. It was the celebration of hardworking labor unions.

It was also the day he was going to get his love. One way or another.

* * *

AN- The opening scene was so much fun to write. Grandpa Rome and South Italy are so conniving, I love it.

Tell me what you think and I'll see you all on Halloween!


	3. Halloween

AN- Man, I can't update ANYTHING on time, can I? Even when I specifically do this story once a month, I still suck. Argh.

* * *

"A Death in the Family: Confidant of the Roman found dead."

Gilbert had managed to find a computer. Ludwig was sure it was through less than legal means. He was sitting on the motel bed, scrolling through the police archives.

"I just managed to access the police report. It's hard to get into the archives when Some poor guy named Giovanni had his throat slit and then he was blasted to hell."

"Like, as in shot?"

"No, as in 'that crazy bastard tied fireworks to him and lit them'. And the report's talking about high grade fireworks. They're still finding pieces of this guy."

"God."

"And get this, it happened on the outskirts of the city, just a few miles from his last attack. He's on the move."

"And possibly after us."

"Possibly," Gilbert said skeptically. "This will be all over the papers by tomorrow. It won't take long for the killings in August to be connected to this crazy. He'll panic. From what I've seen and read, he's great at what he does but he has no nerve. One disruption and he'll surrender. God knows what he'll do when the entire city's looking for him. We need a plan. We need to figure out what we're doing."

"Despite all the problems you've caused, I've resigned myself to staying with you, for the time being," Ludwig muttered, then spoke louder. "What do you think we should do?"

Gilbert placed his fingertips together in front of his mouth, looking thoughtful. "I think we should go over to the next city," Catching Ludwig's confused look, he began to speak rapidly. "My boss is there."

"Your boss?"

He nodded. "The head of my unit. If anyone would know what to do, it would be her. We have to be sneaky though."

"Sneaky? Childish word to use."

"An accurate one though. Look at this." Gilbert passed Ludwig the battered laptop, which was pulling up another article. As Ludwig read it, his eyes widened.

"What!?" He yelled.

"Apparently, whatever happened to that thug who so generously lent his blood for that heart on your car, it wasn't enough to kill him. When he woke up, all he could remember is that he was near your bar when it happened. Considering the fact your bar is more riddled with bullets than a battlefield, they would want you for questioning."

"This. Is. Great. I've lost my bar. I'm stuck with an undercover cop with a bounty on his head, and now I've got a warrant out on my head! And you want to go see the cops."

"Hey, I'm a cop. I'll get us out of it. If worse comes to worse, I'll pretend I'm taking you in and we'll bolt for it."

"Like anyone would take you for a cop. You don't seem to be a very good one."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say to Gilbert. His cocky smile slipped from his face. stared at him for a moment and then turned around, yanking the laptop out of Ludwig's hands. He returned to scrolling, his face alarmingly blank.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig said but he didn't respond.

* * *

"And her mood?"

"As usual when it comes to Gilbert, angry. He's really f-," Catching sight of Roderich's disapproving look, Natalia rolled her eyes. "Sorry. He's really _screwed _up this time. I'd tell you to just leave her be, but she's-."

"EDELSTEIN! IN! NOW!"

"Yelling for you." Natalia finished in a dry tone.

"Yes. I see what you mean. Thank you Natalia, I think Toris was looking for you. Something about the Davidson corpse."

"If you don't come out, shall I send reserves?"

"If I don't come out, evacuate the building." Natalia gave him an almost joking salute and walked away towards the morgue. Roderich took a deep breath and walked into the room.

"Elizabeta?"

She turned around and Roderich noted the lighter in her hand. She was smoking. This was not good.

"Ah finally, somebody with some sense. Is it as bad as I'm told."

Roderich looked down at the ground. The look on her face was terrible. "Gilbert's cover was blown. He appears to have been rescued by somebody but he and this unknown person have disappeared since that report. There was a shooting at a bar and an attack just down the street from it. It is rumored to have been…"

"What? What?" She said, catching sight of Roderich's nervous look. "Spit it out! I don't have all day!"

"The calling card that was found at the scene is almost identical to Feliciano Vargas's own."

Her face went slack and she placed a hand on her desk, sinking into her chair. "The Holiday Hit man?"

"Yes." He wondered if he should go and comfort her. Years before he had met her, at the very beginning of her career, Elizabeta had had an…encounter with the Holiday Hit man. Roderich didn't know the specifics of it but he knew that it had left her with that scar on her back. It had also left her with a fear and hatred of mob members.

"Are the two incidents connected?"

"Gilbert's cover was broken on August 7th. We believe that Vargas broke out the same night."

"And nobody's seen either of them since?"

"Gilbert hasn't been spotted, which is understandable. He's probably trying to lay low right now."

"And…the hit man?" Elizabeta asked.

"He's believed to have killed in early September-."

"Make that last night."

Roderich spun around. In the doorway stood Natalia, her white lab coat covered in blood. Behind her stood her nervous intern, who seemed to be holding something equally bloody. The intern also looked like he was going to pass out.

"What do you have there?"

"What they could find of two mafia enforcers."

"What the hell happened to them?" Elizabeta asked.

"Difficult to say. My guess? They were blown up by exploding pumpkins. He's moved on to explosives now," Natalia said, sounding way too enthused about the men's fate. "This was found at the scene. Here catch."

She tossed a bloody calling card at Roderich.


End file.
